Death

Hey, I really enjoyed this story. Let me know when you're gonna write more to this or another. Great imagery also.

Wow, this is really amazing! I never would have thought too write something like this! But I love it! It's kind of a bittersweet ending, and I don't normally like that stuff.
Here, though.....wow.... it's just really good.

I liked your word choice and I didn't find many grammar problems that have not already been noted.
This is great.

Hey pretty good job. A few minor spelling errors, I want you to read through it and try to find them. Like instead of 'biter' cold when he is entering his complex, "bitter" cold. I had to think a little bit about how you ended it like how you switched the guys positions from lawyer to the guy who had the lawyer. Awesome job for doing it under 500 words! Good short story.

Proceed! -- ASH

Alright! Here's the deal;
Corrections and all of that awkward stuff is highlighted in red!
The stuff that I loved/liked/thought was funny and/or adorable is in purple!
My own comments are in bold!

J.R.S wrote:

Death

Five P.M. and I'm finally on the road, after another long day in court, trying to prove the innocence of a man I knew was not. A man who killed his wife, something I could hardly bear to think about. That's my life, get up early and fight for a cause I don't believe in, just to go home to my empty apartment, and drink in the loneliness. There's already something I like about this guy.

I was pulling into the complex's shared garage, in my 911 Porsche, listening to another sappy romantic tune on the radio. I park, and rise, locking the doors, as I walk towards the stairs. It was a cold, rainy night in Chicago, which didn't help my mood. I climbed the stairs feeling, the cold droplets as they shattered on my jacket, and the biter wind as it brushed the shards away. I unlocked the door and walked in, flipping on the light as I did. I liked the flow of the description here, it was easy on my eyes and it sounded good.

I hang my coat next to the door, and walk to the couch. I take my shoes off and look around. The door to my room is open, and I can see the basket of laundry sitting on the bed, that I hadn't had time to fold this morning. I wipe my eyes, walk in, and start folding and placing them in their respective places, all the while with my own visions of the murder going through my head. I stop and shake my self back into reality, with just one question left. Why would she marry him? Okay, so I know that looks like a lot of red, but it isn't as bad as you might be thinking, promise. It's just that the first paragraph was in past-tense, and this is in present tense...

Selfish, I thought. It was what she wanted, and I wasn't going to get in the way of that. I wanted her to be happy, and she insisted this would make her so. Still, I knew it wouldn't be right for her. Past tense again here...

I place a green shirt in the top drawer of my dresser, and look at the picture which rests on top. That picture from years ago, the night of the prom. The night I really told her how much I loved her. The night that didn't matter. And then present tense... though I really did like that last sentence.

I lift my black slacks I had worn the day before, from the basket. They feel heavy. I press my hand into the pocket and pull out my cell phone. I had wondered what happened to it. I thought I had lost it when I ran down the street after hearing about the murder. I look at the screen. "New Message," it reads. I press OK, and there is her name. "You were right," it says, "You always were, I'm sorry." I sink to the ground, my heart heavy, my mind made up. Hmm...still present tense here.

*****
I sat in the chair now, pleading guilty, as my lawyer stared at me, angry. I wasn't going to let him fight for me though, I killed him, and I would face the punishment. Death. To be with her again. This made me sad, which I suppose was the purpose. I really this last little bit.

Wait, I'm a bit confused, so the man on trial killed his own wife, which the lawyer loved? Then in a later post you say it was the lawyers wife. I'm lost.

While I'm here I might as well point out something I noticed.

I sat in the chair now, pleading guilty, as my lawyer stared at me, angry. I wasn't going to let him fight for me though, I killed him, and I would face the punishment. Death. To be with her again.

you are extremely talented, I would have such a hard time trying to write this with only 500 words. You'de really have to use the best description at the best time, and you did it very nicely (:

I do have to admit, the end kind of threw me off, but it was still pretty good. The whole story was interesting, considering you were supposed to write about a lawyer folding clothes. Haha. Well done! you should never, ever stop writing.

All I have to say is one word: WOW. This was good. I really loved it!
Keep Writing!
Nike:)

Alright, I left it open to a lot of imagination throughout the whole thing because I was really having a hard time trying to keep under 500 words... So at the end it was the same guy, after he had killed the man who ended his wife's life. Hope that clears it up. Thanks so much for the reviews everyone!

I'm kinda confused.

So, at the end did you change to the murderer's point of view? Or was it his point of view the whole time-he was defending himself?

I like your writing, but it was confusing. Sorry if I'm being blonde here

Hey! I'm pigeon. I really liked this, but there's a few things you need to fix up

Five P.M. and I'm finally on the road, after another long day in court, trying to prove the innocence of a man I knew was not.

A man who killed his wife, something I could hardly bear to think about.

I was pulling into the complex's shared garage, in my 911 Porsche, listening to another sappy romantic tune on the radio. I park, and rise, locking the doors, as I walk towards the stairs.

I climbed the stairs feeling the cold droplets as they shattered on my jacket, and the biter wind as it brushed the shards away.

I stop and shake my self back into reality, with just one question left. Why would she marry him?

Selfish, I thought. It was what she wanted, and I wasn't going to get in the way of that. I wanted her to be happy, and she insisted this would make her so. Still I knew it wouldn't be right for her.

I sat in the chair now, pleading guilty, as my lawyer stared at me, angry. I wasn't going to let him fight for me though, I killed him, and I would face the punishment. Death. To be with her again.